


Hidden Pasts and Eerie Lurkers

by dannywelsh



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Government Conspiracy, Just Roll With It, MI6 Agents, Multi, bc they work for the government, but our friendship is fake, but you get the idea, dont judge, i mean they dont work for the GOVERNMENT, im having fun idk, literally just us being buddies, secret agents, uhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25727401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannywelsh/pseuds/dannywelsh
Summary: Meet incredibly attractive hunks Isuc and Kusper, working on a secret mission to spy on the unsuspecting Duniel. But what eerie revelations hang between the two special agents, pushed back into the past? Which damning secret is Isuc hiding? Their mission seems almost doomed when the mysterious Eleanur's true alliance is revealed and an assassination plot against Duniel comes to light, that potentially only Kusper can prevent.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Authority

The two shared a quiet nod before entering the office. It was stuffier than they had thought, an odd smell hanging in the air that neither of them particularly enjoyed. Behind the large, wooden table stood a man, shorter than both of them, much heavier built, with blonde hair that would remind anyone of a bird’s nest. 

“Please,” he said, his voice heavy and strained. He gestured towards the chairs on the other side of his desk, but both of the men that had entered shook their heads politely. They preferred to stand. An annoyed sigh escaped the Prime Minister’s lips before he himself fell down onto his massively cushioned seat. 

“So, bring me up to speed. Who are you and what’s this mission you’re doing?” His tone didn’t signal any type of interest, but that wasn’t surprising to either of his visitors. One of them, the blonde one, brown-skinned and built like a bodybuilder, cleared his throat.

“I’m special agent Isuc, this is my partner Kusper.” He gestured towards the man next to him who was just a hint taller, had much paler skin and the hint of a beard that his partner was missing. “We’re working on Mission Miso Soup.” 

The Prime Minister let out a cackling laugh at the code name, but neither Isuc nor Kusper joined in. They disliked it when someone made fun of these highly serious matters. Additionally, both of them unanimously agreed that this new joke of a politician was the worst addition 10 Downing Street had seen yet. And they had been around for a while. 

“We are on a long-term undercover mission to gradually extract information from our suspect,” Kusper said diplomatically and took the file from under his arm, opened it and slid it across the table in front of messy-haired. The poor excuse for a politician studied the enlarged picture of their suspect and the hastily written summary underneath it, a finger sliding up his face to correct his glasses. 

“As with your predecessor, we have an agreement regarding funding for our mission with the government. You just need to sign it again for your office term.” Kusper had this thing about him that allowed him to stay eerily neutral and calm, even when he was most aggravated inside. Isuc couldn’t help but admire it a little. 

“Now, why should I fund this operation?” Boris Johnson spoke with a slight chuckle to his words. He leaned back in his chair and looked up from the file Kusper had placed in front of him. The special agents could feel his eyes burning into their tailored suits as he examined them. 

“Because the information we hope to obtain is of highest importance to our national security,” Isuc said, fighting the urge to fiddle with his fingers. It wasn’t easy for him to stay still, present himself as formally as this. Maybe he was more engulfed by his undercover work than he intended. 

“Well, explain to me exactly what information it is then. Or I will have you both fired.” The Prime Minister’s arms folded in front of his chest. “You’ve been in the field for one and a half years. No results so far. You didn’t even manage to get reasonably close to the subject until three months ago. You want me to keep funding a mission that has not yielded any fruits in all this time?” 

Isuc and Kusper shared a brief glance, both enraged by Johnson’s behaviour to an unspeakable amount. Yet outside of their eyes, nothing showed this. 

“With all due respect, Prime Minister,” Isuc began, shuffling a little before regaining his straight posture. “We are not employed by you. We are simply asking for financial assistance from the government to resume our operation.” For just the hint of a moment, Kusper’s body language clearly showed his restraint as he battled whether to throw in a comment about how the respect didn’t stem from his side. But he kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to start a fight right here and right now. 

“Who exactly authorised this mission then?” Johnson slid his glasses from his face, placed them on the desk and with heavy breathing emerged from his chair. “If it was my dear predecessor then surely that authority now lies with me.” 

Kusper cleared his throat slightly. 

“Despite what you may believe, sitting on your high horse in this office, we still live in a monarchy, Mr Johnson. There are people above you that hold powers your imagination could not even perceive.” He reached across the desk again to take back his file. The Prime Minister did not stop him. “You may realise that we have no need to ask for funding on this matter. It is simply an exchange we are willing to offer. If the government gives us funding, we share the information we uncover. I hope you understand that we are under no legal obligation to do so, given our… employer.” 

Boris Johnson had not spoken in a while and if Isuc wasn’t going mad it seemed like the man had gone even paler. A silence hung in the room but the agents deduced it could only be good for them. After a minute or so, and an entire minute of silence feels like an awfully long time, Johnson sighed, finally giving in. 

“I will give you funding,” he said, but his tone already implied he was going to continue the sentence. “But if you have no results by this time next year, you’re out.” Isuc and Kusper didn’t feel like reminding him he had no authority to end their careers nor to propose any conditions to his offer but they both nodded calmly, keeping their thoughts to themselves. 

Johnson brought a hand up to his face, scratching his chin.

“Given your high security clearance, are you aware of Project CVD19?” At this point Kusper would have given a lot to punch the inherently incompetent Prime Minister. He was lucky that the two agents did in fact know all the details about said project, probably more than Johnson was aware of himself, but to blurt it out like that was simply unprofessional.

Isuc nodded and Johnson nodded back, clearly deep in thoughts. Then his hand left his chin again and he stared at his two guests.

“A great excuse. Use it to your advantage. I want a fully updated report by the end of the second lockdown.” Again, Isuc and Kusper shared a quick look, then nodded eagerly towards the Prime Minister, knowing full well he would have no authority to ask for a report by then. Clearly something Johnson had not been informed of when an MI6 official had briefed him on COVID-19. 

And with another hand signal, they were dismissed.


	2. Tea

It was 4 am when Kusper’s eyes turned to his clock again. He had been sucked into the files yet again, staying up all night to make sure he was aware of every little detail and trying to find new ways to get close to their target. He felt they were on the right track and that he was starting to trust them. But maybe that was all part of a giant facade that even Kusper could not look through. He sighed, finally closing the file. He wished they had some digital version of it as he felt that would come easier to him. But this information was far too precarious to be handled on any internet network. 

There was a knock on his door, eerily well-timed. Kusper closed his eyes for just a brief moment, feeling his eyelids become heavy. There was no one else who would show up at his door at this hour. In fact, the amount of people that knew his real address was so slim that Kusper could count them on one hand. He would never risk one of his supposed university friends showing up at the flat he said he shared with his mother -- a mother that he had made up to fit his agenda. After all, he was neither a university student nor… He scrapped the thought and stood up.

When he opened the door, he was unsurprised when his partner crept into the room, face hidden under the large hood of his jumper. 

“Good morning,” Kusper said, not unamused, the hint of a smile dancing across his lips. He shut the door again as Isuc let his eyes wander around the small room. 

“Still working, I see,” he remarked but even though his voice may have sounded like it, Kusper knew it was no surprise to Isuc. That the case had reeled Kusper in, some would say more than it should have, was not news.

“I thought you were in Bangladesh?” Kusper asked with a chuckle, referring to the story they had made up to fool their target. They had to make it believable, after all, and Isuc had already begun spinning his cover story around his Bangladeshi heritage. That bit, ultimately, was not necessarily a lie. Isuc would say he had just blurred the details a little. 

“Shut up,” Isuc muttered, clearly not feeling as polite and professional as usual. Even though they had started off strictly as work partners, this long undercover mission had brought them close enough to scrap the formalities when they were in private. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Kusper forced himself to look away and strolled towards the small kitchen to boil the kettle and make a cup of tea for both of them. This was not the first time that Isuc had turned up out of the blue when his mind kept him awake. Kusper didn’t mind in the slightest. 

“Our flight leaves at two,” Kusper said as he fished for the box of teabags. He didn’t remember how old they were. He rarely drank tea, most of the time just when he had guests, which wasn’t often. For a brief moment, he wondered if tea could run out of date but he assumed it wouldn’t. It was just tea after all. 

“I know, I have my bag in my car.” Kusper had to force the smile away from his face. Of course, Isuc would invite himself around to stay. Again, he didn’t mind. 

“You’ll give me a ride then,” he said as if he was striking a diplomatic deal. The kettle switched off and Kusper filled the two mugs. Isuc appeared next to him, startling Kusper a little before he regained his composure. The South Asian man grinned, placing a jug of milk on the counter, which Kasper gratefully took without saying another word. 

Half an hour later they found themselves sitting on the floor, empty mugs next to them, each with a hand of playing cards. Silence filled the room but it was far from uncomfortable. Sometimes a silent room was better than one filled with words. Or maybe that was just Kusper’s personal preference.

It felt like some time off, considering his job required him actively pretty much twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, twelve months a year. His holiday this year would take him to Germany, not so much a holiday as a spy mission. At least their target was an international student; a few weeks abroad would give him a different environment. Even though he would be there on duty, it would still be a change of scenery. 

“Another one,” Isuc said absent-mindedly, holding up his mug while staring intently into his hand of cards. Kusper looked up from his own, studying his partner’s face for a moment. He had grown quite fond of Isuc’s demanding nature, however much it may have annoyed him at the start. He placed his own cards on the ground and silently stood up, taking the mug from Isuc’s hand. “One sugar please,” Isuc added, still not looking up.

Back in the kitchen, Kusper turned on the kettle again. It was a mildly strange feeling. The persona he had created for the target wouldn’t have done this. The Kusper he pretended to be was not someone who used a kettle. In fact, he feared he had overdone it a little with all of the things he pretended to do differently than the norm. Oh, and the entire vegetarian-story. He had figured it would get the target’s attention, allow them to share something, but oh how he missed a good steak every time he was in public.

He would have been a little scared at their upcoming trip. Eerie of being discovered by who they were spying on. Even just something as simple as being recognised by his parents, in case he had shown them a picture of them. But Kusper had been in this business for way too long to fear anything of that sort. He was a professional and he was bloody good at it. There was no chance of being spotted. 

Too much depended on their success. This was an incredibly delicate mission, and he knew that. That's why Isuc and he had been playing the long game, slowly but surely getting closer. Eventually, they would succeed. They would get the information they needed. He knew it.


End file.
